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The Northwest Enterprise.
VOL. 11. The Northwest Enterprise. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT ANA<'ORTK«, WANIII\bTO\ TDK. BY THE North-west Enterprise Co. Entered at the Post-office at Anacortes aa secoiui eloM matter Mubwcriptlon Kate**: (In all cases iuvariably m advance ) One Year i $3 00 Hix Month* 1 60 Three Months 76 begal AdvertinliiK Ralen. One Square (13 lines) first insertion £1 00 Each subsequent insertion 50 OFFICIAL UIKIKTOKY. IMuaatf to Congreas Thoniati Breuts Governor William A Newell Secretary N H Owintfa Marshal Chan B. Hopkins U 8. Attorney John B Allen Auditor Thos M Keed Surveyor General Wm. MeMicken Judge First Judicial District 8 C. Winganl •*2* l " ** John Hoyi •• 3U “ * K. H U revue Register t T 8 Land Office J F Uowery Receiver U.H. Land Office H. U. Htuar’ WHATCOM COUNTY OFFICERS; Auditor C. Donovan Treac Thomas Coupe Hberiff James <) Laugh!in lessor James O'Laughllu Prohatf Judge H. J. White Surveyor. Judgin Coroner • • • School Huperlntendent O«o. h. Hartmon Commissioners- J. J. Edens, B H. Burns and Isaac “"'man JUAN COUNTY OFFICERS; auditor John 11. Bowman, Friday Harbor Treaeurer laraol Katz, Ban du»n Sheriff J 0 '" 1 kelly Probate judge K. D War how, Friday Harbor Surveyor K. Von (Johreu, Omar Inland a—,j,„r iohii Kelly Buptof Schools William Bell TERMS OF COURT. District Court meet* at Laconner the third Wednes day in J one And December of each year Commisalonera’ Court meet* at Whatcom the nrat Monday in February, May, August and Novemtier of pJm Court meets at Whatcom the fourth Monday In every aecoud month, commencing with January of each year PROFESSIONAL CARDS. JJEHHONH INNEKD OF LEGAL BLANKS such as Chattel Mortgages. Quit-Claims, and arranly Deeds, etc., would do well to make ap plication at this office, where they can be ob tallied at reasonable prices. Blanks printed to order on short notice. JAMES a: GILLILAND, LACONNEK. - • - w - T - Land Business —■— OF Any Description PROMPTLY ATTENDED TO. By arrangement* with reliable land attorneM In Olympia and Washington, D. C., my custo niers can have their land businees attended to the same a* if peraonally present at either place. Parties wishing to purchase or locate Land Berio, would do well to consult me. er-All latest lamd Laws, Buies and Decisions kJIJt on tile. Laud Warrants bought and so d. Conveyancing, tales paid, purchases anil sales made. Collections made and proceeds prompt. I* remitted. 17 “ SAMUEL KENNY, Flrat-Clasa PRACTICAL TAILOR. —AND— JOHN KENNY, First-Class PRACTICAL SHOEMAKER (Both occupying same store.) Commercial street, Seattle, W. T. Are prepared to furnish arerything in their line at. reaeonble prices. Fite guaranteed both for body and feet. Also a Kenerelassortment of ladies’ and Gentlemen a 1? oot,W*ar, and a general assortment of Clothing, Furnishing Goods, Hats, Capa, and everything in the Gent ■ Varnishing Good* Line, which we offer at toe most reasonable rates. ■ v JOHN E. DAVIS, BLACKSMITH AND MACH INST, Laoonnet- * - Washington Ty. Will repair on short notice all kinds of FARMING A Specialty made of LOGCINQ CAMP WORK. OF*Duplicate pieces of of all standard plows and Machines always on hand, and sold at Port land prices. 24 ly JAMES JONES, Cash Grocer CHOICE Butter, Cheese, Honey, Foreign and Domestic Fruits, Provisions and BuppUss, Nuts and Confection* . ary, California Wines, Kentucky Whiskies, direct from tha Distilleries, ttoo Dealers in all kinds of Stationery, School Books snd Periodicals. Rifles, Breech-loading Shotguns, Powder, Shot, Wads, * Paper Shells, Etc, Fort Townsend opposite Central Hotel. Head of Union Wharf. » * I XoOLnm bouse. LA CONNER. - - - W.T. i VP FAINS WILL BE SPARED IN KEEP* A\mg op the well established reputation of ft Muse as one of the qpietest and best kept ZftSals in the Territory. No LIQUORS SOLD. CT*si|Uiing clean and neat about the premises, special efforts will be made takeep the table tSnlied with the beat the market can afford • JSd to see the food is properly cooked and ; wrvsd second to no other house in the Tern. HWf« A large reading room lor tha aocomo gNßan of guests. JOHM MoGUNN. A Hint on Chimneys. [lndustrial Chronicle.] , It is well known that the round form is the tot for chimneys in workshops. It facilitates to escape of the smoke] an J gives less bold to tbs wind, besides requiring lew material to construction. Round cUineys are, how tor, difficult to build, and In some places the •tot of workmen to make the round kind rtooompeiiaj the adoption of square or oeta ftol forms. To obviate this a European '*• makes bricks in the shape of wedges todeorrespondiu? with the radius which the ■•toey is to have. A Jake on Ingcrnoll. [Chicago Times.] .stosged colored woman of Washington, *sQt at the colored indignation meeting in ; tot city recently, was so overcome by the Jtotoito sound of voice that she toe general routine of gymnastics com- Jtoljr used in camp-meeting—vis: Jumping •Mai down, droning out a hymn, and keep* J*k*to to the tune by the gentle pit-a-pat •to pedal extremities. Hhe had mistaken attorney for a minister DEVOTED TO THE INTERESTS OF WHATCOM AND SAN JUAN COUNTIES AND THE WHOLE NORTHWEST. THE BELLS OF LYNN, [Temple Bar.] Whcu the eve is growing gray, and the tide is rolling in, ■ I sit and look across the bay to the bonny town of Lynn; And the Usher folks are near, But I wish they never hear The songs the far bells make for me, the bonny bells of Lynn. The folks are chatting gay, and I hear their merry din. Gut I look and look across the bay to the bonny town of Lynn; Ho told me to wait here Upon the old brown pier, To wait and watch him coming when the tide was rolling in. Oh, I see him pulling strong, pulling o’er the bay to me, And I hear bis jovial song, and hia merry face I see; • And now he’s at the pier. My bonny love and dear I And he’s coming up the sea-washed steps with hand outstretched to me. O my love, your cheek is cold, and your hands are stark aud thin! Oh, hear you uot the bells of old, the bouuy bells of Lynn! Oh, have you naught to say Upon our'wedding day? Love, hear you not the welding bells across the Bay of Lyuu? O my lover, speak to me I and bold me fast, mine own! For I fear this rising sea, and these winds and waves that moan I But never a word he said! He is dead, my love is dead I Ah me! ah me! I did but dream; and I am all alone— Alone, and old, and gray; and the tide is rolling in; But my heart’s away, away, away, in the old graveyard at Lynn! SOJOURNER TRUTH’S SAVINGS. Mer Powerful Outburst at a Woman”* Hlghta Convention. [Chicago Tribune. ] Mrs. Frances D. Gage has recorded one of Sojourner Truth’s impressive outbursts on the public platform in the “History of Woman Suffrage.” It was at a woman’s rights convention at Akron, Ohio, in 1851. During its sessions old Sojourner—for she was 80 years of age then—“sat crouched against the wall on the corner of the pulpit stairs, her sun-bonnet shading her eyes, her el bows on her knees, her chin resting on her broad, hard palms.” Few dared to have her speak, many implored Mrs. Gage, who was president of the convention, to prevent her from speaking. They didn’t want their cause “mixed with the abolitionists and niggers.” But the time came when Sojourner Truth felt it liorne in upon her to speak : “She moved slowly to the front, laid her old bonnet at her feet, and turned her great speakingeyos to me.” Hisses came from the audience. But she looked the disapproval down. Nearly six feet high, her head was thrown back, and her eyes “pierced the upper air like one in a dream.” At her first words there was a profound hush. She spoke in deep tones, though not loud, which reached every ear in the bouse. Here are some of the words she said, and they will show how powerful and original a character was this full blooded African woman, and how justi fied her fame was; “Dat man ober dar say dat womin need to be helped into carriages and lifted ober ditches, and to hab de bes* place eberywhar. Nobody eber helps me into carriages or ober mud piles, or gibe me any bes’ place I" And raising herself to her full height and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked, “And a’n’t I a woman ? Look at ray arm I” (and she bare I her right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremen dous muscular power.) “X have plowed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me. And a’u’t I woman V I could work as much and eat as much as a man—when I could get it—and bear the lash os well. And a’n’t I a woman ? I have borne thirteen cbilern, and seen ’em mos’ all sold off to slavery, and when I cried oat with my mother’s grief none bat Jesus heard me. And a’n’t 1 a woman ? “Den dey talks ’boot dis ting in de head -what dis day call it? (“Intel lect,” whispered some one near.) Dat’s it, honey. What’s dat got to do wid womin’s rights or nigger’s rights ? If my cup won’t bold but a pint aud yourn holds a quart, wouldn’t ye be mean not to let me have my little half measure full? Den dat little man in black, dar —he says womin can’t have as much rights as men, because Christ wa’nt a woman! Whar did your Christ Some from?” Rolling thunder oonld not have stilled that crowd as did those deep, wonderful tones, as she stood there with outstretched arms and eyes of fire: Raising her voice s(ill a loader, she repeated: “Whar did year Christ come from? From Cod and woman! M an had nothin’ to do wid him 1” Death ss a Pale Horse. [New York Cor. Chicago Journal.] “Death is on a pale horse, racing right alongside of £ole,” said a man at my elbow. We were at the Brighton Beach races. The speaker was a physician. The visible horse (hat be referred to, Eole, was the property of Freddie Osbhardt, the Langtry-famous yonhg man, and was winning the race. “What do yon mean about seeing Death as a rider in this run?’’ I asked. “Simply that he is contesting with the jockey who is mounted on Eolo,” was the reply. “That fellow’s name is McLaughlin, yon say? Well, 1 was over at the weighing stand when he was preparing to ride. A jockey has to be a light-weight, for horse owners don’t care to weigh down their Leasts. This is a dreadfully cold day. We’re shivering in thick overcoats, with the collars turned up. McLaughlin has nothing on under his thin silk jacket. He hasn’t allowed himself an extra pound in flannels. To all intents he is exposed naked, not only to the low temperature, but to the tremendous wind made by the speed of the race. Every time be rides unclothed like that, he takes abfe risk of pneumonia. That’s why I say that Death is running a pale horse by his side, and is just as likely as not to beat him to-day.” Arkaoaaw Traveler: Dar’s some lit tle truth eben in de biggee’ lie, eben ef it ia no more den de fack dat it is a lie. ANACORTES, W. a T-, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1884. INTO THE UNFORGOT TEN LAND. [“Madge Carrol" in Arthur’s Magjwiue.] Arthur Okill sat in his deceased friend’s office, perusing, in the capacity of executor an epistle directed to Joseph Laux, and signed Enuyntrude Houthwayd. Although addressed familiarly “Dear Joe," and over flowing with sentimental reminiscences, it was a business, not a love letter, else ho would not have read it. It appeared that the writer’s father left Thornton twenty years previous, owing Joe—who had then just en tered man's estate—money for house-rent. Having but recently discovered this fact, the lady, being now possessed of considerable property, desired in justice to pay both principal and interest. Such was the sum and substance of this letter, read in the golden after-glow of one of June’s fairest days. There was, however, one line over which Arthur Okill p< ndered seriously. It ran thus: . “The story so sweetly begun and so sadly broken off under that roof you know well.” Yes, of course, Joe I,aux kuew. IV hen queenly Ermyntrude Southmayd broke her engagement -with Arthur Okill, all the gos sips in the village got hold of this racy bit of news and rolled it like some toothsome morsel under their tongues. The elders remembered it to this day, although the discarded lover had at different times honorably wooed and won two of their daughters and hail buried them, and children with them, under the red and white clover bloom in Thornton’s little green graveyard. Folks seldom forget things of this sort. More’* the pity. From his rose-dmjjed window he could see across the way the moss-embroidered eaves under which they parted so sadly and so coldly long ago. Hince that memorable evening he had written all sorts of bard and bitter things against this beautiful, imperious creature, and had closed and sealed the i*ages time and again, only to open them once more and re write, although for nearly twenty years her light step had never crossed bis path. Now at last, as the day died in amber rods along the gentle slopes of Thornton, he fell to reading between those fiery lines penned with his heart’s best blood, and to wondering whether if be had but refused to have taken that rash girl at her word she would not have been touched and have melted like wax under love’s indomitable flame. Hitting there in the crimson and amber sun-glow, with white and pink rose-leaves floating in at the open window like scented, tinted snowflakes, he wished, vaguely, that this thought had oc curred to him then, and that he had acted upon it. As it was, it was too late. Even the ashes of that old love were scattered. He would sooner expret to behold those whom he had kissed and lail away come forth in fleshy habiliments than to find that annihilated jiassion clothed anew and dwell ing in bis bosom. “What in the world are you doingf" ex claimed Mrs. Seth Okill, opening the door of the office from her jiarlor adjoining. “I thought you were going out." “No, I’m attending to a little business," re plied her brother-in-law, hurriedly seising some legal documents and making twlieve to look them over. “Say, Cad," recalling her as she was about retiring, “you remember the Uoutbmayds, don’t you!" “To be sure 1 Jo. What wan that beauti ful daughter’* name! Glen wood? Elfen boodf Mb,'that don’t sound like it either.” “Try Ermyntrude,” suggested Arthur, drily. “Sure enough! Ermyntrude. I used to name all my prettiest dolls after her. Nice family, but awful poor and proud, weren’t they! What about them I" “She’s written to Joe from Jersey City, and is coming to see him on business.” “Poor Joel And be dead and burled this two weeks 1” sighed Cad Okill. “She’s pretty old now, isn’t she? I’m twenty-eight, and she was grown up when 1 was a little girl.” “She’s thirty-nine,’’ replied Okill, running his shapely fingers through bis own thickly powdered hair and beard, wondering the while bow “Empress EraiyntrudeV’ rare auburn braids stood the test of time. “Thirty-nine and not married I” exclaimed Mrs. Okill, as if compassing the round of human misery. “Is she after our dear old bachelor Joe?” “Nonscnsel You know all about Joe’s love affairs. Any way, she always held her head too high far such as hi, or, indied, any one, for that matter. Now that she’s rich, she doubtless bolds it higher yet.” “Yes, I recollect, she was called the Em press, wsuit she? She was so beautiful and seemed to be so grand, I really thought she ruled a kingdom, and often wished 1 could slip into the houso aud see her crown and throne. When is she coming?” “To-morrow noon.” The morrow’s mid-hour found Miss South mayd alighted at the pretty vine eugarlanded station, and rapidly pursuing her way toward the well known intersecting streets, on one corner of which was Joe’s office, and upon another tbs rambling, tree-girdled structure she ones called home. Despite tj>e changes nearly twenty years bad wrought, “Empress Ermytmde,” al though she pulled her gray travelinj veil over her face, half detenuiued neither to see nor be seen, recognised a familiar resMsnoe and bit of woodland green and emerald ■ward. She had not oome with any intention of remaining even for one day. There were painful memories connected with the place other than those inter woven with “love’s young dream.” Then, too, there was really no one she cared or dared see, except ing Joe Laos. The remaining member of the only family whose acquaintance she hod kept np removed some three months previous, and were now her neighbors in the city where she made her home. Still, strive as she would, Utter-sweet moiMrias crowded in upon her, aad when at length she met-Arthur Okill face to (ace, ben was rapt, dewed like that of a rose in the flush of dawn. The ripe, red lips still disclosed their seed pearl rosary; there was no thread of silver f nrtrmg those chestnut braids, no trace of a wrinkle on those rounded checks. While far younger woi en, such as pad Okill, aged un der the m* trimoui&l yoke, and “child-birth pain left Ite traces on heart and brain," she retained her splendid btaltb, and, although she had earned her broad and met many trials, was even more regally beautiful than in the olden tinier In early maidenhood critics had pronounced her “too fat and too red.” The tendency of ovsr-ripenees bad been checked, that tropical rlchnaos of color ing toned uown, and criticism on that score was disarmed. “Arthur!” she cried, not flushing in the least, yet.. ith all the light of her countenance dying out and a strange gloom ovenhadow tbe warm, brown eyea “Ermyntrude!" exclaimed be. One Instant these two, who had wracked each other’s hope, clasped hands, and eye met eye in searching, yearning gase; then the lady ■aid, quietly enough outwardly: “This is an unexpected meeting. I regret being so pressed for time; I am obliged to seem abrupt. I came to as# Joe on a matter of businem. Is—” “I know, I know,” replied Arthur OklU interrupting her; “sit down, please; I’ve something to tell you." She sat down and he told her about Joe’* death and hie reading of her letter. He ooolil not reach the necessary papers for a day or two, he said, and in the course of a week would be obliged to visit Jersey City; If agreeable, he would be happy to wait upon her there. “Taught by tears and calmed by time,” there was little more said on either side. Mrs. Okill was summoned and chattered for about fifteen minutes, after which her brother-in law attended Miss Southmayd to the little rose-banked station, pressed her hand, and bade her gcxxl-bye. Miss Southmayd’s parlor was not gorgeous; tt was simply a cozy nook in which to do or to dream great or lovely things. Bitting there, with roseate lights and violet shadows flitting over face and figure, “Empress Ermyntrude’s” heart beat true, but she was on her guard against this much-married lover. Not so be. Boeing her still so rarely beau tiful, so like the queen of life’s unforgotten May, memory failed to produce a record of the hard and bitter things written aud sealed, against her; later luvee and ties were ignored, aud, although self-controlled and apparently cool and at ease, be fait the passion of that earlier, better day bloesoming redly in his heart They parted as they had met, old acquaint ances; that, seemingly, was all. It was, nevertheless, odd what a vast amount of “red tap®’’ Mr. Okill managed to wind about this bit of business. It became necessary he should call again. During this interview, ho dashed into the subject neareet his thoughts and heart in a manner which might strike one as abrupt, awkward, but "very human.” “I think I never saw you look so well in anything as you did that evening in the red dress.” She knew to what he alluded. They bad quareled over a dress, which, when she dis played it in triumph as the one she was to wear at a coming party, he said would “extinguish" her; it was too much the color of her hair'and eyes. One word brought an other, finally oho flashed out: “If the way I dress don’t suit, your lordship, perhaps I don’t suit you either, and we may as well break our engagement.” “As you please," be had replie l, bftily. Two days afterward they mot at the party and did not speak, so the affair became com mon property. Following close this heart tragedy came the Bouthmayds’ removal, and that seemed to be the end of love’s young dream. “You mistake,” she replied; “it was not red, it was cinnamon-brown. They would call it terra-cotta now." There was a moment’s silence. Each had opened the page of life's past and was reading their stories with strained, pained hearts and eyes. They stood near the breese haunted bay window, over which a woodbine strung her scented garlands. Somewhere, a swoo - voiced girl sang *‘ Home, Hweot Home. ” W hen the last note died lingeringly on the summer air, Arthur (poke; "Nor is there in life anything so sweet as the honey of young love. One may roam the world over, drinking at every spring; might even banquet with the gods, and never find, nor hope to find,f uch nectar as he first drank from love’s golden chalice." Erjnyntrude, gathering some fallen white and creamy blossoms, murmured something about flowers that never freshen, and they stood in silence again, looking iuto the ur>for gotten land of youth. The Hairpin Craae, [Milwaukee Journal.] “A crank." “What breedr “A very common one just at this time. He’s a hairpin crank.” “What do you meanl” “Why, simply what I said. It’s a new erase that has struck all in a heap those pecu liarly rattle-pated individuals who have been wont to burn the midnight lamp composing a sonnet to my mistress’ eyebrows As the small boy used to gather postage stamps and the wee girl fill up her faittou-strong, so do these tender-hearted youths collect hairpins. They watch the ladies as they paw along the streets, at< parties, balls, and in stores on shopping excursions, and when a hairpin works loose and falls to the ground or floor it Is quickly picked up, the lady’s name discovered if possible, and the hairpin, properly labeled, therewith goes to swell the collection. The bolder of the hairpin collectors will succeed in picking a loose one from a lady’s back hair without her knowing it I was invited the other evening to inspect a collection of these retire of beauty fathered together by a Seventh ward young man. He had 800 of them, and they all bore the name of the charming wearers, including all the changes of fore and aft on the name Hmith, from Arabella to Zola, and from plain Smith, to Bchmith and Smyth. One of the pins, my delectable companion informed me, was from the head of one of the leading society hellee of the city, and cost him $5 to secure it, a rival collector having obtained the precious trophy and sold out to him.” “What do they do with them!” “The same as the boy did with his postage t amps, or the girl with her button-strings keep them to look at and to admire. The erase has Just struck the west. It originated among the dndee of Boston about a year ago, and has Just arrived. In all probability it will die out in a single season, as it seems too foolish to endure long.” Makes ’Km Kespeet a Ham [Rockland Conrier-Oaaetto.] "What’s this Dead Scott decision about f queried Mrs. Wiggles worth, lo iking up from the paper. “Dread Soott—not. Dead Scott,” corrected Mr. Wiggles worth, with a man’s patronising snflle of superiority. “Well, Dread Soott, then. What is Itf" Mr. Wig glesworth was stuck, but he looked wise. “Something to do with the Mexican war,” he explained. “Gen. Scott, you know, was a terrible fighter, and the Greasers got to referr ing to him os the Dread Soott Home decision or other he made about a battle is what the papers mean.” Mrs. Wiggles worth, with a satisfied air, folded the paper back and •turned to see if any new people had been born, while Mr. Wiggles worth winked to himself at his having got out of it so smoothly. “All a woman needs,” be mentally remarked, “is to have a thing explained one way or an other. Don’t matter what yon toll ’em, so long as it’s something. It’s a mighty sight easier than having to answer a hundred ques tions. Mokes ’em respect a man, too” California Cotton Raining. [Chicago Herald.] Cotton raising in southern California has act proved as profitable as was expected, and the chief trouble seems to be inefficient labor and its high price. Most of the plantersVn gaged Chinese to do the work for them, but one season’s experience has proved that, while the Chinaman demands almost as much for his work as .the white man, bs cannot pick one-third the amount of cotton. A num ber of na*roeß*rs to be engaged to take the place of the, Celestials Among the 80,000 postmasters in the United Stales, 98,000 a year Is the highest salary, and S cento the lowest. Thers are forty seven who receive |1 n year salary. RURAL ENGLAND. Hearty Old Fashioned FoUtenesa and Fresh Unaffected Country Olrla [London Letter in New York Bun.] Almost the first thing you are told when you take up your temporary residence In Blankshire, is that your comments must be guarded and your conversation diplomatic, as all the families within a visiting radius of twenty miles are related to each other. And eo they are, for a death puts ail the country side in mourning, while a wedding calls out universal sympathy. Along the route of the bridal cortege, every cottage or farm house hangs out its little decoration, and in the town every tradesman lias bis flag, his bunch of flowers, or bis bit of bunting, for bos he not catered for the wants of the young couple from their christening upward! Visitors and invitations promptly flow in upon the new comer with a hearty old-fash ioned politeness. Dinner parties are not pop ular. lu the summer other gatherings are preferred; and ip winter or autumn the male portion of the community, the men who have lieon shooting and hunting for seven or eight hours, refuse to don the tail coat and white tie and drive ten miles for a ceremonious meal. Moreover, coachmen and grooms, bard worked by their attendance on the ex acting hunter (meaning the quadruped), turn crusty at being kept out till the small hours for social duties, although they are ever ready to turn out at I a. m. when it is ne cessary to ride eighteen miles to be at a meet for club hunting at 5 in the morning. The girls— the strong, fresh, healthy, un affected girls of Blankshire—seem to exist on lawn tennis, with an occasional trial at cricket, in which manly sport they are no mean adepts. But tennis is the inevitable, the universal, the all-engrossing game. In front of the low, broad, many-windowed, creeper-grown houses of the gentry, spread the well-kept lawns, smooth as carpets, soft and springy as moss, and across their green expanse are stretched as many nets as the accurate measurement of the courts will allow. There from morning till sunset the balls fly, sent over by strong, supple wrists, while the air echoes to reiterations of the tennis slang. The men of all ages and de nominations are clad in their flannels, and, like. the girls, wear the flat India rubber soled shoe, for on uo account must the ad mirably kept turf be cut up While the game progresses the strangers and the non players are plied with tea and the thinnest of bread and butter. At no hour between 8 and 6 can you pay a visit in the country without the neat silver service being brought in, and the ri'ea of 5 o'clock tea complied with. Then you are shown over the house by the kind hostess* and gladden her soul by genuine admiration of the rare bite of china, the quaint-carved balusters of oaken staircases, odd recesses, curious old engravings, older and more curious books in gigantic bindings and colossal type. Among those, in strange dis sonance, and yet unmistakably the index to the keynote of courtly minds, shines the red binding of all the peerages and volumes ded icated by Burke, Debret and others to the nobility and gentry. Homo are in three volumee, others fat and voluminous like a commercial directory, others only pocket editions of the same. Each family knows its own lineage and descent of every other. What the New Testament was hr the old Cov enanters, the printed record of his ancestors is to the British landowner—his vade mecum, his guide, his fundamental dogma Homo times of two brothers one only figures in the '‘Landed Gentry.” The other has lost his claims to ap]x*ar in the “Livre d’Or,” for he has embraced trade and become a broker or brewer. Mnalla for the Table. [Paris Cor. Ban Francisco Chronicle.] Another "delicacy” in this.country in the escargots, or snails. Kor my part, I don’t like them, and after having once screwed my courage to the tasting point I have ever since been wondering where was the pleasure of die wing at a little piece of gristle that bore a close resemblance to boiled sole-leather. However, the French consider the snail as an edible mollusk, and the nasty, slimy, crawling creatures are sold on the street corners just the same as oysters and at about the same prices. They are served up in their shells, into which is stuffed a com pound of butter, parsley, and sometimes garlic, and you are supplied with a sort of picker, with which to extract them. The finest come from Burgundy, but of late years a number of departments have turned their at tention to the breeding and fattening of snails for the Paris market; now It is the department of Ander that ships the greatest quantity. Toward the end of summer the escargots are collected into little inclosures, arranged in the corners of the fields and gar dens, the spot selected being cold, damp and shady. In all ante of aromatic plants are oultivatM, and it is frequently via isted to see that the snails do not stray too far away. Toward the end of autumn dry moss and leaves are scattered in the inclosure, and when the snails have built up the opening of their shells and gone to sleep for the winter they are gathered into boxes and shipped to market The Habit of Harry. [London Daily News] The whole of modern life, whether in the centres of pleasure or the centres of business, is dominated by the desire to do too much, and the consequent necessity of doing it with precipitation. It is a horrible habit—a detri mental habit; we had almost said a vulgar habit The whole world is in a conspiracy to double, to treble the pace. And what is gained by itt Loss of temper, deterioration of manners, injury to digestion, increase of nervous diseases—these art the natural and inevitable results of that high pressure to ■which we nearly all expose ourselves and subject each other. Who is made bettor by it, who wiser, who even richer? Everything is relative in this world; an 1 if everybody gallops nobody is bettor off than if every body walked. But who will consent to alter it? It would require a universal consensus; and this is not attainable. After the Perpeleea. [Exchange.] A company lias been organised by persons living in Philadelphia and Cape Hay to catch porpoises, by mean* of a net Invented for that special purpose, and convert them into oil, leather, and fertilisers. Those product* of the sportive porpoise are said to be par ticularly valuable, but hitherto the difficulty has been to catch the porpoise. The new net with which the company is to make war is capable of accommodating 150 of them at a time. Heme AUltlsial Mgsa [Courier-Journal.] Lord Bacon’s signs of short life are quick growth, fair, soft skin, soft fine hair, early corpulence, large heed, short neck, small mouth, fat ear, brittle, separated teeth. The other signs are; Going into a saloon at twelve intervals a day, sitting on a railroad crossing, and writing original poetry. A whaling company with 11,000,000 capital has been started In San Francisco. comuumsn is Russia THE GOVERNMENT OF THE “MIR”—WHY -THE NIHILISTS HAVE LEFT THE PEAB ANTRY. Translation from Paris Figaro. Every commune, every mir is gov erned just the way it wants to be. The Russian mir is the perfect realization of the perfect commune dreamed of by certain occidental Socialists. The property of the commune is indivisible, and ns each has always more land than it is possible to cultivate, a regular con ference is held every year and a decision made as to what part of the soil shall be planted, and what products shall be cultivated. Every soul in the village is employed in the work, and after har vest the profits are equally divided. The “mir” has the privilege of banish ing lazy or worthless characters. If a crime be committed all the inhabitants are held responsible until the guilty party is found. In the same way every member of the community is held re sponsible for the payment of taxes. But in practice things do not run so smoothly by any means, as the theory of the system might lead one to sup pose. There are plenty of lazy folk, turbulent and dangerous characters, ambitious men; and over all these tower the employes of the central gov ernment who rule tyrannically and make the peasantry pay them heavily for overlooking certain things or pre tending to ignore deficiencies. Yet, after all, what better condition of affairs could the revolutionary party promise to the peasant? In reality, none. But the revolutionaries did find one vulnerable spot through which the peasant brain might be reached and excited to dissatisfaction. Alexander 11. had given a part of the seignorial lands of the peasantry. The Nihilists have persuaded the peasants that the gift was given only as the first install ment of a larger one; that all the lands really l>elong to them, and are due them; that the lords have succeeded in devising means to keep the emperor from giving the peasant all the landed estates. They have thus taught the peasant to believe that the nobility are their natural enemies. Thus have the seeds of social war been sown by the Nihilists. But the Nihilists have not thus been able to win the poor people to the cause of political reform. Consequently the Nihilists have ceased their propagandise! among the peasantry. They at first made it a duty “to go among the people,” as they called it: and they really did mingle with them, lived with them, identified themselves with the masses. But they were soon disillusioned. It is now chiefly among the educated classes, the intelligent classes, that they seek for converts; and they make a great many. It must l>e confessed that their journal, Land and Liberty, is still published in spite of all efforts to suppress it—pub lished irregularly, it is true, but still published in the teeth of all opposition. THE AMENDE HONORABLE. Bill Nye in Detroit Free Pros. I remember an incident which oc curred last summer in my office while I was writing something scathing. A large man with an air of profound per spiration about him and a plaid flannel shirt stepped into the middle of the room and breathed in all the air I was not using. He said he would give me four minutes in which to retract, and pulled out a watch by which to ascer tain the exact time. 1 asked him if he would not allow me a minute or two to go over to the telegraph office and to wire my parents of my awful death. He said that I could walk out that door when I walked over his dead body. Then I waited a long time, till be told me my time was up, and asked me what I was waiting for. I told him I was waiting for him to die so that I could walk over his dead body. How could I walk over a corpse until life was ex tinct ? He stood and looked at me, at first in astonishment, afterward in pity. Finally tears welled up in his eyes and ploughed their way down his brown and grimy face. Then he said that I need not fear him. “Yon are safe,” said he. “A youth who is so patient and cheerful as you are, one who would wait for a healthy man to die so that you could meander over his pulseless remnants, ought not to die a violent death. A soft eyed seraph like you who is no more con versant with the ways of this world than that, ought to be put in a glass vial of alcohol and preserved. I came op here to kill you and throw you into the rain water barrel, but now that I know what a patient disposition you have, 1 shudder when I think of tha crime I was about to commit.” PHYSICAL KPPKCTS OP COLOR. John W. Root In Inter-Ocean. Certain effects of color on domestic animals (ruminants, fowls, etc.) are well known. It is only within a very few years that anything like systematic investigation has been made of color effects on men, but, as far as they have been made, it appears that they can be recognized and rudely predetermined. In the case of certain lunatics, and other persons of deficient mental con trol, red and yellow was obviously ex citant, blue and green soothing—as with those of us who are not lunatics; while all savage triltes manifest for red and yellow, and for all brilliant and glittering things, a marked and passionate fondness. A COSTLY RKSIDKXCK. Millionaire Flood, of San Francisco, is about to begin the erection of what he says will be the handsomest and most costly private residence in the United States. It will be of brown stone brought from eastern quarries, and the cost when completed is esti mated at $8,500,000, not including the value of the ground. A a OHO SOUS SCREEN. New Orleans Ti men-Democrat. All the best needle-workers in New York are engaged on a gorgeous screen for the Vanderbilt mansion. It is being made at Mr. John La Fargo's studio, under the supervision of Mrs. Tilling bast. The gold thread alone used in this embroidery cost SBO,OOO. Such a screen as that should cover • multitude of sins. NO. 49. THE PRISONER’S TASK. [Swinton’s Story-Teller.] He passed the first ten years of _ his imprisonment without doing anything; just time to turn himself round, settle down and get into the ways of the place. Then, as ho still had twenty years to serve out, he said to himself one fine morning that it was shameful to lead so lazy a life, and that he must find some occupation worthy—not of a free man, for he was a prisoner—but simply of a man. He devoted a year to reflecting, to weighing the different ideas which passed through his head, and examin ing what should be the definitive ob ject of*his life. To train a spider? That was very old,well known! Copy Pellison, peughl fiat plagiary! To count on his fingers the wrinkles on the wall ? What I that was a ridicu lous and useless amusement; nothing worth while. He said to himself: “I must find something which would be at once curious, profitable and gratifying to my desire for vengeance. I must invent a task which will make the time pass, which will produce some benefit and which will have the value of a protest.” A fresh year was spent on this dis covery, and finally success rewarded so much perseverance. The prisoner lived in a veritable dungeon, where the sun entered only for half an hour a day, and then only by a thin line like a single hair of light. The wretched pallet on which the un fortunate man rested his cramped limbs was literally nothing but a heap of damp straw. “Now, then,” he cried with energy, “I shall bother my jailers and bluff the law. I will dry my straw I” Ho first of all counted tlie stalks which formed his bundle. There were 1,307. A poor bundle. He next made an experiment to find out how much time it needed to dry one of the straws. It needed three-quar ters of an hour. This made then, altogether, for the 1,307 straws, a sum of 980 hours and fifteen minutes; or—taking it at half an hour sunlight a day—l,96l days. Assuming that the sun shone on an average, one day in three, he ar rived at a total of sixteen years, one month, one week and six days. At the end of six months this was what remained for him to do. He set to work then. Every time that the sun shone the prisoner held one of the straws in the ray and thus utilized all his sunlight. The rest of the time he kept warm beneath his clothes what he bad been able to dry. Ten years passed away. The prisoner had now only a third of his damp bundle to sleep on, and had his chest stuffed with the two other thirds which had gradually been dried. Fifteen years passed. Oh I joy, only 186 stalks of damp straw left I Four hundred and eight days more and the prisoner would be finally able to stand erect, proud of his work, victor over society, and cry with the vengeful voice and satanio laughter of insurgents: "Ha! ha I You condemned me to damp straw in your dungeon I Then weep with rage I I lie <Jn dry straw 1” Alas! cruel fate was waiting in am bush for its prey! One night when the prisoner was dreaming of his future happiness, in his ecstasy he made furious gestures, knocked over his pitcher, and the water fell on bis chest. All the straw was wetted. What was to be done now ? Begin again the Sisyphus task ? Pass another fifteen years in getting bits of sun into bits of straw. And his discouragement I Yon, the lucky ones of the world, who give up a pleasure if yon have io take twenty-five steps to get it, dare you throw the first stone at him ? But, you will say, he had only a year and a half to wait! And do you reckon for nothing his wounded pride, his abortive hopes? What, this man shall have worked fif teen years in order to sleep on a bundle of dry straw, and then consent to leave his prison with bits of damp straw on his hair I Never! There is nothing be tween self-respect and lying down in the gutter. Eight days and eight nights he de bated in anguish, struggling with de spair, trying to find a footing agaip in the annihilation which overwhelmed him. He ended by surrendering and con fessing himself vanquished. He had lost the battle. One evening he fell on his knees, crashed, despairing. “My God !” he said with tears, “I ask Thy forgiveness for being without courage to-day. I have suffered for thirty years, 1 have felt my limbs decay, my skin witl er, my eyes wear away, mv blood become pale, my hair and teeth fall out. 1 have fought against hunger, cold, solitude. I had one desire which sustained my efforts, I had one ob ject in mv life. Now my desire cannot possibly be satisfied. Now my object has fled forever. Now I am dishon ored. Pardon me for deserting my post, for leaving the battle, for running away like a coward. I can no more.” Then in a fit of indignation he re sumes: “No," he cried, “no, a thousand times no I It shall not be said that I have lost my life for nothing. No; lam not conquered 1 No; I shall not desertl No; lam not a coward 1 No; I will not lie a minute longer on the damp straw of the dungeons! No; society shall not get the better of me 1" And the prisoner died daring the night, vanquished like Brutus, grand as Cato. He had died of an heroic indigestion. He had eaten all his straw. Two qsestlni tss All Was Over. [San Francisco Post] “Have you got quail on tosstr asked a seedy looking party as be entered a Market street restaurant the other day. “Have you got an eagle un silver I" asked the proprietor. And the conference adjourned sine 'lie. There is one lawyer for every 700 people is the United States.